


Night

by Lyl



Series: Fuel [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Clubbing, Dancing, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-19
Updated: 2010-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyl/pseuds/Lyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuel (n): 4) anything that sustains or inflames emotion or passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night

**Author's Note:**

> post-Buffy/post-Angel

The bass from the music pounded through her bones with every beat, sending her blood pulsing through her veins. The heat around her was building up with every movement, bodies pushing in from every side as they all moved to the rhythm of the thrumming music.

Willow threw her arms in the air, closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the music. She could feel every note, every beat, as it inflamed her blood, relaxing tense muscles that had been tense since long before Kennedy had decided to leave.

Willow had seen the end coming months ago, but hadn't been willing to admit it. She'd kept fooling herself, ignoring the way Kennedy looked at her after every time she'd needed to use her magic for som reason. She'd ignored the look of wary distrust that grew stronger at every 'infraction', until Kennedy had reached her breaking point.

It had been two weeks, four towns and seven bars since that extended screaming fight.

What really upset Willow - more than the loss of her girlfriend, or being abandoned in South America - was the fact that she wasn't very upset about it. In fact, her complete lack of concern over the end of her two year relationship with the slayer had her more concerned.

That's what had sent her here - yet another demon bar in yet another no-name town. She'd needed to feel something, other than that calm iciness that seemed to have enveloped her over the past year. Every emotion felt like it was faked for the benefit of those around her, while inside she felt nothing. Well, not nothing. Willow felt anger, fear and desperation, but nothing like she was suppose to. It was almost as if the 'real' Willow had been lost along the way - possibly as far back as that final day in Sunnydale - leaving only the empty shell behind to fill the space, waiting to become 'Willow' again. But she never had.

And no one had noticed, not even Kennedy. Not one of her friends had seen the hollowed being she had become.

Bitterness welled up in her again, and Willow turned her attention back to the dance floor, moving in sync with the multitude of shapes and forms that shared this space. She'd discovered in that first bar somewhere in northern Peru, that she _could_ feel something on the dance floor. She could let loose all her inhibitions, and let the intoxicating music take her over, feeling at peace and exhilarated all at once.

It was an incredible feeling after being so empty for so long, and so addicting. She'd been traveling around from town to town, bar to bar, restless if she was in the same town for more than a few days. It felt like she was searching for something, but didn't know what it was or where to find it.

Until then, she was finding herself, as trite as that sounded. This was the time for her to discover exactly who she was, without the constraints of other people's expectations. The dance floor of these bars gave her the head space needed to explore herself more, which she was taking advantage of. The music set her blood pulsating through her body even as others around her set her supernatural senses aflame. Differences were ignored here.

A set of hands suddenly found their way around her middle, yanking her out of her zone as they pulled her body back against theirs.

"Let. Go." she said forcefully, placing her hands over the intruder's, her palms burning with power as they encountered cool flesh.

"Is that any way to say 'Hello', luv?" asked a familiar voice in her ear. The shock was enough to lose her focus, the magic vanishing from her hands.

"Spike?" she asked, turning her head so she could see him. His face was so close, Willow had to blink a few times to bring it into focus. It was the same eyes, same smirk, same hair and same attitude that she remembered so vividly from Sunnydale.

"Miss me?" he asked, pulling her tighter against his front. She could feel every muscle, every curve of his body through her thin clothes, and fought the urge to lean back more fully. One arm continued to hold her against him as he moved them both to the beat of the music, every move letting her know that he was in control. His other hand went for a wander under her tank top, moving up over the planes of her stomach with deliberate intensity. As his thumb lightly brushed the underside of her breast, Willow gasped, pushing further into his body as she tried to escape the touch.

His arm just tightened around her waist, holding her in place as his palm moved higher up her chest until his thumb was wedged between her breasts with his palm flat against her rib cage, his fingers laying flat beneath her breast.

"Spike." she breathed out, feeling liquid pool between her thighs as his lips began traveling over the curve of her shoulder and up the arch of her neck. She felt the arm around her waist loosen and begin to move, while he used the hand beneath her breast to keep her in place. His roving hand moved down the front of her jean clad thigh, and back up along the inside seam until he was nearing the center of her that was growing in heat and wetness the longer he touched her. Willow didn't know what was going on - she'd never felt like this about Spike back when she'd known him. True, there had been that little crush she'd nursed when she'd first seen him years ago, but that hadn't lasted past the broken bottle in her face.

But this....this was something different.

"Spike...what are you-"

"Shh. It's okay, Willow." he murmured in her ear, his voice moving over her senses in its own brand of seduction. "I've got you."

"Wha-" It was all she managed to get out before his hand moved from between her thighs to down the front of her pants. There wasn't much room, but Spike made do, his hand flat against her belly with his fingers poised dangerously on her pelvic bone, pressing rhythmically in rough imitation of the real thing. Somehow that sent her blood flowing even faster than if he'd managed to make it further down.

"You're gorgeous like this, Willow." he said huskily, and she could feel the evidence of his desire pressed against her back side. "Let me have you."

"I-" She got out no more than that before he started deliberately pressing his fingers against her pelvic bone to the beat of the bass.

"Let me have you." he repeated in her ear, his lips brushing intently against the shell of her ear, sending vibrations through her entire body. The sensations were starting to overwhelm her, and Willow could feel her hold on her self-control slipping with every second.

All she could managed was a nod of her head as she pushed her hips into his hand.

"Say it, luv."

"Yes." she hissed out after a few tries. Willow just wanted to keep feeling this way, and was beyond caring about why. Logically she knew she shouldn't be this wound up after only a few touches, but her body was too aroused for it to matter. All she cared about was enjoying this feeling while it lasted.

Quicker than she thought possible, Willow found herself in a dark corner in one of the many back halls of the bar, her back against the wall and Spike against her front. She barely had time to take in his all-black outfit before his lips were on hers and his hands had pushed beneath her top.

Spike's lips moved over hers, dominating them with every movement. His hands continued up, cupping her breasts in his hands, and Willow had a quick thought that it had been a good idea to forgo a bra that night. She felt his hands massaging the mounds of flesh, squeezing and rubbing as he fitted a strong thigh between her legs, effectively pinning her to the wall. A gasp escaped her as his thumbs moved to tease over her hardened nipples, and Spike took advantage of her parted lips to slip his tongue inside, tasting every hidden crevice there was.

Willow didn't know when it had become so hard to breath, but couldn't find it in herself to care too much. The blood was pounding through her veins, her senses were inflamed, and there was barely enough air reaching her lungs. But she wanted more; so much more that if she'd been thinking clearly, she would have been afraid.

Finally, his mouth left hers, allowing her to drag in deep gulps of air as his lips traveled down her neck, across her collarbone, to land on the puckered nipple just begging for more attention.

"_Spike..._" she moaned, wondering just when had he pulled her top up.

Mouth, teeth and lips all worked together, pulling more pants and moans from her throat, moving between each breath as it pleased him. It pleased Willow, too, and she suddenly realized she was grasping his head in her hands, holding him in place. It felt good, so good. She'd never been this inflamed by another person before, where she lost all sense of self, but she was enjoying it now. Spike's lips continued to torment her breasts as his hands moved to grasp her bottom, holding her rocking hips against his thigh.

A whimper of protest escaped her lips when he abandoned her chest, but didn't have the heart to really complain as he turned his attention to her neck. She felt him start to fumble with the opening of her jeans, and at the point she was about to just magic them to oblivion, he got the button undone, the zipper lowered and a hand inside.

His name tripped over her lips amidst moans and pleas for more, as his fingers found out just how wet and hot she was. As one of his fingers began to move just slightly, she cried out and clutched his head closer to her neck. She needed to feel him, as much of him as possible, because she might die if she didn't. He murmured words into her skin as he played with her clit, and Willow felt more and more heat pool between her legs. She needed him inside her - she needed him now.

"Spike....please..." she cried out again, and Willow didn't even care if she was begging. Her body was on fire for him, and she didn't think she would survive if he left her now.

That seemed to spark something in him, as his hands moved to her waist, pushing her jeans and panties down to her ankles before undoing his own fastenings. Willow spared a moment to consider the logistics, before his hands moved around to her butt and pulled her up while pushing her further into the wall.

"Pull your knees up, luv." he said, plastering himself against her front. "I've got you." Then Willow got it, bending her knees and pulling them up and out, letting Spike take her weight in his hands. No sooner had she planted her bound feet flat against the wall than he was there. Deep inside her, stretching out her inner walls, making her moan in pleasure. It had been so long, that she'd forgotten what it felt like to be filled like this.

They stayed like that for an eternity, and then he was moving. His cool body plowing in to hers, pinning her to the wall with every thrust, claiming her with every motion. She pressed her head back into the hard surface, her mouth open as she gasped for elusive air, clutching desperately at his back as his shirt scraped across her overly sensitive nipples. All she could do was hold on and hope she survived it.

"Look at me, Willow." he said, forcing her attention to his face. The face of the demon inside that he hid from the world at large. She choked on his name, feeling fear begin to spread through her, joining with her arousal to send her spiraling higher. The terror added an intoxicating element to the moment, causing her channel to clench around him. The heat low in her belly seemed to burst at his knowing smirk, as he continued to thrust in and out of her heat the entire time.

"You're mine, Willow." he told her, emphasizing his claim by pounding in to her faster and harder. Her body had never been used like this before, and she couldn't get enough of it. She tried to hold in her cries, but some managed to get past her lips, emerging as whimpers rather than denials. Somehow, Spike began to thrust into her even faster, and Willow felt something twist deep inside her, tighter and tighter, waiting for the perfect moment to burst.

As he lowered his mouth to the base of her throat, Willowed shivered feeling the ridges and bumps of his face. The jump in her breathing when he traced his fangs across the smooth flesh, had her wondering if it was in fear or enjoyment. Not that it mattered, because seconds later those same fangs pierced the skin, teeth sinking deep into her throat, lips sealing against her.

There was pain - deep and unbearable pain consuming her as Spike continued drink from her, and then suddenly...explosion. Screaming. That tight coil of tension burst into a million pieces, taking Willow with them. Her orgasm was all-consuming, each spasm squeezing his length as he continued to thrust into her spasming channel. Her vision blurred as the pulses raced through her body, seeming to magnify with each breath. Breath which was becoming harder and harder to drag into her heaving lungs. Black spots began appearing before her eyes, and Willow realized that Spike hadn't stopped, he was still draining her blood from her even as he continued to move between her thighs.

She clutched his back, desperately trying to do something, anything to make him stop, but it was too late. Her mind was fuzzy, her vision fading as the darkness crept ever closer. Willow didn't have the breath left to do more than catch a tiny gasp in her throat, as Spike thrust one last time before spilling himself inside her. As he let himself go deep within her body, Willow felt the last of her consciousness leave her, and she slipped in to darkness.

~!~

Waking was a surprise all around, for Willow. She didn't feel dead, then again, she wouldn't know what 'dead' felt like, so she had no real way of telling. But she could feel her heart beating, her limbs felt heavy, as well as an assortment of other items that were all classified as 'deal with them later' hurts.

She had enough sense, as she returned to consciousness, to keep her eyes closed and her body still, wanting to get her bearings. She couldn't hear anything, and a quick, gentle pulse of magic told her there were no living beings in the room. Feeling it was safe to open her eyes, Willow took the chance, and immediately regretted it.

Standing in front of her was blue-ish demon, that looked a lot like Fred. In fact, it was Fred - in a blue, demon form. But that couldn't be right, because the last she'd heard, Winifred Burkle had died - she distinctly remembered that, because it had led to an enormous fight with Giles and Kennedy about letting her choose who to help and how to do it. Then it clicked. Fred had died, her body becoming the shell that sustained an Old One, a God-King named Illyria.

In a split second, Willow sat up and gathered her magic, feeling her eyes and hair turning black with the power of her hate for this 'thing' that had killed her friend.

"Now, now. None of that, pet." said an accented voice from beside her. Willow turned her black eyes on a smirking Spike, ready and willing to blast him as well. Then a thought occurred to here and she reached a hand up to her neck, feeling the healing wounds from Spike's feeding.

"I'm going to turn you into the fluffiest, cutest vampire bunny on the planet, Spike." she growled, her anger only feeding her power.

"She will do." intoned Illyria, pulling Willow's attention from the still-smirking vampire. She thought she could detect a hint of approval and amusement in the former God-King's voice, but nothing of that showed on her face. "You may keep her."

Willow just looked at her, the black bleeding from her eyes.

"What?!"

END


End file.
